Butterflies
by SirLeonIsImmortal7
Summary: Canada gets fed up at a world meeting with everyone's misconceptions of France. AKA Canada loses his temper and makes a new friend. Rated T to be safe. Beware bashing, FACE family, slash.
1. The Day Canada Snapped

At yet another world meeting, they were (as usual) getting nothing done. This fact alone caused many countries to begin their own discussions, though it could easily be argued that they were getting nothing done _because_ of said countries. Germany was still trying to gain some semblance of order, although he had little luck. Italy bounced by Germany, grinning from ear to ear.

The sun shone brightly through the windows. Canada was sure that if he were to walk outside he would hear birds chirping and the bustle of the locals of Italy, where the meeting was being held. He sat silently as he heard insults being flung at his Papa. He hated what they said about France. It was rare for anyone to watch anything they said around Canada, mainly because he usually faded into the backround so well they didn't realize he was even there. He could see how pained France became. Who wouldn't when the people they were supposed to trust acted so cruel? Canada knew how much it pained France to be falsely named a rapist time and time again- he was known as the country of love for maple's sake! How could they be so blind they were unable to see the truth? His Papa had once told him that there was much more to any relationship than mindless sex. Love was much deeper.

Canadians were not known for the tempers (just the opposite actually) but as he watched France go through that terrible, soul crashing pain, he felt his temper flare dangerously. For as long as he could remember, everyone would say the same demeaning words. He was fed up with it. He abruptly stood, ignoring Kumahiro's protests (though he wasn't against Canada finally standing up to the others, he had just been comfy). He felt waves of anger flow off of himself like a dark cloud.

America was the first to notice. He quickly froze and decided it would be better for his health if he stayed silent. He knew how his brother got when he finally snapped, and he was in no hurry to be the recipient of his anger.

The other nations also quieted. The fact that they did so was because they were terrified at this new side of a half forgotten nation was something Canada chose to ignore. Even Kumataka was quiet, though he did sit back and had pulled out a bag of popcorn (Canada had no idea where he got it from and resolved to ask him when they got home).

"All of you are so blind," Canada hissed. "When have any of you actually tried to get to know Papa France? Or are your heads so far up your rear ends you can't see what everything you say does to him?" France's eyes widened. "All of you say such terribly cruel things to him without even blinking!"

Canada glowered at the room, "Papa has never forced himself onto someone. 'Sex is an expression of the deepest love, mon cher, never let someone pressure you into it, or do something you know you will regret, because it will not go away no matter how much you wish it would.' That's what he told be when I was a mere enfant! It's something I will never forget." France's eyes watered, but he smiled. "Never ever do I want to hear any of you say it again."

No one in the room was sure how the normally timid boy did it, but he managed to terrify the whole lot of them. Except for Russia and America, though for different reasons. America knew how he did it, while Russia was filled with new curiosity for Canada. They looked on in silence as France rushed to embrace Canada, whispering words they couldn't hear into the incensed country's ear. Canada nodded to Kumamiji with a strange gleam in his eyes. He led France out, who now could no longer stop the tears from cascading down.

They all turned to look at the small bear sitting in Canada's previously vacated chair. He chuckled, "Haven't seen that in a while."

"What do you mean, bear-san?" Japan inquired.

"I haven't seen him like that in decades," Kumajiro muttered. "Takes a lot to light his fuse," he glanced around the room with a decidedly dangerous glint in his eyes, "I would suggest doing as he asks, else I don't think he'll be able to restrain himself."

Germany frowned, "Is that a threat?"

Kumajiro smirked, "More like a promise."

"Like, what do you like mean?" Poland interrupted, "Like, that was already more than I, like, thought he could do."

America shuddered, "He can be much, much worse- even to a hero like me."

"I thought he could do it, given the right motivation," Russia said thoughtfully.

"The stupid frog shouldn't be so bloody sensitive!" England fumed.

America barely managed to prevent himself from lunging across the table at England, "Listen here," he snapped. "Canada is right. We've never seen how much our words hurt France, and since I'm the hero, I'm gonna fix it! I didn't pay attention and hurt people I care about, _and I won't do it again_."

The countries were shocked at America's serious speech. England scoffed, "Like _you_ care about hurting people."

America hollowly laughed, "I did say the people I care about, Bushy Eyebrows." His face hardened, "I'm the hero so I try to protect everyone I can, but my loved ones always have been and always will be my top priority."

They were astounded by the change in America- he appeared to be more like a war-hardened veteran than the happy-go-lucky nation they knew. "What about England, ve?" Italy asked, uncharacteristically soft spoken.

"I gave up on him a long time ago. I eventually figured out he simply didn't care for me."

"What do you mean by that!" England demanded.

America fixed his carefully blank gaze on England, "You were never there. You never replied to any letter I sent you. I pleaded with you to stay- to talk to me- but you never did. The only time you ever took the time out of your _busy_ schedule," he mocked, "was to harass my people and extort my land. Then you had the nerve to act self-righteous and hurt when I was only trying to prove that I was worth something. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I could prove myself you wouldn't ignore me anymore." He brokenly continued while the other countries sat in stunned silence, "Well, I was right. You don't ignore me anymore, but you hate me. But you know what's worse? I can't hate you. I hate that I can't hate you. Now, I'm gonna go find my brother and France so I can apologize. The rest of you should as well." He spared them one last glance before leaving without another word.

He felt his cheeks become wet and started. He wiped his eyes and rushed off. He found Canada and France a few hallways away. He embraced France, "I'm sorry. So, so sorry," he choked, "do you think you could ever forgive me? I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

"Mon cher, I already have. There's nothing left to forgive."

Kumajiro, who had followed America, climbed onto Canada, "All's well that ends well, eh?"

"Yeah, Kumahashi," Canada agreed. He suddenly noticed that America's eyes were red, "America?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been crying?" He questioned.

"It was England," Kumatoto supplied.

"You have unleashed a devil," France bluntly told Kumajiro. Canada's eyes darkened as he clenched his fists. He raced back to the conference room despite America's protests.

He was only gone five minutes, but the next day when France, America, and Canada would arrive at the world meeting, England wouldn't be there and most of the nation's would try to steer clear of Canada (but he and Russia had a newfound camaraderie). Many of the nations would apologize to France. When America would muse as to England's location, Canada would darkly chuckle. America would then realize that he would rather not know (for his own sanity) and would swiftly change the subject.

You see, as the world had recently found out, that little family had no intention of letting harm come to the ones they loved. They smiled so brightly, so beautifully, that you could not help but stop and stare when it happened.

* * *

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it had gone through to achieve that beauty." - Maya Angelou

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed! How do y'all think I did with the characters? I hope they're not too OOC ^^'. This is pretty heavily based on different headcanons fyi. I plan on having at least one more chapter. Ooh before I forget! I did purposely misspell Kumajiro's name, and please don't hate me for making England seem so horrible!**

 **Disclaimer: Okay, we all know I don't own it but I'll stick it here anyway :).**


	2. Russia Made A New Friend

Russia quietly sighed. Once again, nothing was being accomplished at the world meeting. He wondered if any of them actually cared about the meetings. Besides Germany, of course. He could hear the nations around him gossiping. From what he could hear there wasn't much change in any of the rumors since the last meeting. Should he bother to correct any of them? Especially since a good portion was about himself. The Baltic states weren't necessarily afraid of him- they were frightened by everything- and he wasn't as cruel as they made him out to be. There were others of course, but Russia did not have any belief that trying to end the rumors would stop them. It seemed like it would be more likely to encourage them, so he stayed silent.

France appeared to be a popular topic today. His clothes, bed partners, love life, culture, hair- nothing was untouched by ridicule. France had always seemed kind to Russia, so he was confused why they found so much pleasure in belittling France. He wasn't at all like Russia, whose appearance scared many people. Besides his sisters, the only person who wasn't frightened of him was China, though he had a feeling that the rumors were part of the reason.

Russia glanced up at the sound of a new voice. Canada was angry, which was surprising in itself, but he also wasn't stuttering or fading out again. Russia remembered one time when Canada became irritated but then once he had started speaking, he had no more presence than a shadow.

He gazed at Canada as he made his speech, and realized that he wasn't as surprised by it as he thought he would be. He quietly watched Canada leave while comforting France. Maybe now they would stop the malicious rumors about France. He curiously listened to Canada's bear. Kumajiro?

"Haven't seen that in a while," Kumajiro said with a laugh.

"What do you mean, bear-san?" Russia heard Japan ask.

"I haven't seen him act like that in decades," Kumajiro muttered. "Takes a lot to light his fuse," he glanced around the room with a menacing light in his eyes. "I would suggest doing as he asks, else I don't think he'll be able to restrain himself."

Somehow, Russia had no trouble believing those words. Love, even of the familial sort, made people do things they normally wouldn't do, and no one could doubt Canada's love for France.

"Is that a threat?" Germany questioned severely.

Kumajiro smirked, "More like a promise." Russia had never realized bears could smirk so effectively, or at all, yet Kumajiro did it with ease.

"Like, what do you, like, mean?" Poland interrupted. "Like, that was already more than I thought he could do."

America shuddered, "He can be much, much worse- even to a hero like me."

"I always thought he could do it, given the right motivation," Russia spoke thoughtfully. The quiet ones really were the ones to watch out for.

Russia heard England snap, and wasn't surprised when America countered him, but Russia was surprised at the venomous words that flew at England. He had never realized that the superpower had felt that way and- from the shocked faces around the room- no one else had either.

After America had rushed off to find France and Canada, the room erupted with voices. Prussia (who had snuck in once again) and Spain looked positively ill. They hated themselves for missing the fact that their beloved friend was hurting- that he was in so much pain- and they had done nothing to stop it. What was so obvious to Canada should have been just as obvious to them. Everyone felt guilty, everyone except England, whose pride and stubbornness would not allow him to admit that he was wrong. He ranted and tried to justify everything that had happened, even going so far as to blame France.

"It would be wise to shut up, da?" Russia's soft voice carried through the room. Unsure who he was talking to, all of the countries quieted in fear. Russia had proved ruthless when angered in the past, and no one wanted to risk it.

"England, your actions can not be blamed on anyone but yourself," Russia growled, pulling out his trusty pipe. "It is quite... distasteful and ill-advised for you to continue to do so, da? In this case, France is the victim and as such not to be blamed," Russia's hand tightened around his pipe.

England looked ready to quip another rude remark, but Canada burst through the doors, eyes blazing. He stormed over to England and punched him. The force threw him from his chair and he roughly hit the wall. A loud snap shot through the room.

"That," Canada hissed, "was for France." He advanced until he reached England, then grabbed the front of his shirt. Canada slowly lifted England off the ground, fury contorting his face. Then, he swiftly threw England. England flew onto the table. It now had a deep crack in the wood, "And that," he spat, "was for making my brother cry."

"Canada," Russia called. Canada started because he had not realized that the tall country was standing next to him, "I do not wish for you to get in trouble." Russia's voice lowered so that only Canada was able to hear his next words, "If you continue this now, you will not be able to avoid it." He smiled sadistically. The occupants of the room trembled at the sight. "If you would like, I could escort him to a doctor," Russia's hardened face and clenched jaw made the others glad that they weren't in England's stead.

Canada's lips curled into what could only be described as a savage grin. He knew what Russia was wanting to do, and was pleased that Russia was asking him. Of course, in this mood he might have gone after Russia as well had he been in Canada's way, despite his normal fear of Russia. Canada nodded.

Russia wasted no time in grabbing England by the arm that Canada had broken. England was barely able to let out a whimper. At this point his mind was clouded over in pain. Russia nearly pulled the arm out of its socket as he dragged the island country out.

Canada turned to the rest of the room, most were still seated, all too scared to move. "Let this be a lesson," he warned before he stormed out. He decided on his way back to his family that in the future he would make sure to be kind to unlikely new friend. Perhaps Russia would like some of his special prized syrup. Canada decided that if nothing else, he would invite Russia over for dinner- maybe give him the syrup then. He nodded to himself as he reached the hallway he had left only minutes before.

The family left the building together to go to America's hotel room. They watched TV and played games well into the evening. When they finally decided to call it a night, they all collapsed on the queen sized bed. France lay in the middle while America and Canada snuggled up next to him on either side just like they had done when they were little. Kumajiro curled up at Canada's feet.

* * *

The next morning when the arrived at the world meeting, Canada was pleased to note that the table had been replaced. It wouldn't do for America or France to find out about his little temper tantrum- he didn't want to needlessly worry them. He was so glad that England wasn't back yet, that he didn't notice that many of the countries were avoiding him, not that he would have been surprised after his previous display.

Canada snickered when America wondered aloud where England was, which caused the conversation to be changed quickly. He took a seat by Russia and watched as Spain and Prussia begged for France's forgiveness. The seats by Russia were always the last to be filled, unless China sat by him.

"Good morning, Russia," Canada greeted cheerfully.

Russia was startled out of his thoughts but he quickly composed himself, "Good morning."

"Thank you- for stopping me yesterday, and for your help."

Russia gave Canada a grin, and he was slightly surprised to realize it was a real smile, "It was no trouble."

Canada shook his head but conceded, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to come over for dinner sometime," he looked seriously into Russia's eyes. "From now on, you are welcome in my home anytime."

"Thank you," Russia sincerely spoke. "Likewise, Canada, and if you ever need help again..." he trailed off.

"I might just take you up on that one day," Canada laughed.

* * *

"Your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your worth." - Anonymous

* * *

 **A/N: So sorry that I took so long! I really meant to update earlier... I hoped this lived up to your expectations. I THANK Y'ALL FOR ALL OF THE FOLLOWS, FAVORITES, AND REVIEWS! They really made me smile and helped inspire me to write. Please point out any errors if you see any! I found the quote on Pinterest and it didn't say who so if you know who said it and tell me, I'll credit them for it.**

 **What do y'all think about another chap? Or should I leave it as is? I have a couple ideas for another chapter but I'd really love to hear y'all's opinion!**


	3. We're Off To See The Wizard

Over the following weeks, Canada and Russia had become good friends. America and France easily accepted Russia, after all, a friend of Canada was a friend of theirs. Even if said friend used to scare the crap out of them. As they spent more time around each other, they realized there was a lot more to Russia than meets the eye. Thus, Russia was swiftly accepted into the little family.

Almost shockingly, (to them at least) America and Russia found that they had many things in common, such as their distrust of England, at least in regard to France's well-being. Apparently, what was now being lovingly referred to as "That World Meeting" had finally knocked some sense into England's head, but the duo remained skeptical. Who wouldn't be after everything? Canada wanted it to be true but had little hope, while France remained ever optimistic. As if England should be forgiven so easily. America blamed it on the fact that France had loved the dense, hard headed country for centuries. Love can be blind, he supposed. Everyone knew that, it was just something that people liked to forget when they were put in such a situation.

America just didn't want France to be broken all over again. He was terrified, no that wasn't the right word, but he didn't think there were words to describe the overwhelming despair and the shaking that controlled his body. Therefore, he was terrified. Terrified that they wouldn't be able to fix France this time. He knew sometimes even heroes couldn't save everyone, even if it was those dearest to them, and he didn't know if he could survive that. If he could live through losing yet another important person on his life. It was true that he was scared of losing France- one of the only people who had stuck by him over the years- but he was even more horrified at the thought if who he might become because of it. What he could become. What if that was enough to finally push him over the edge and become what the world proclaimed him to be? His motives weren't entirely selfless, and his family knew that. He was only grateful that they accepted it.

America had been surprised when he found out Russia agreed with him about England, after all, Russia had little reason to feel so protective of France. Nevertheless, he rejoiced at the thought of an ally. America knew how it felt to be betrayed by England, while France had only face rejection. But then comes the question: Is it better to have loved and lost than to have never had it at all? France had never realized England was too dense to see what France was trying to do. Trying to say. Everyone else had thought it fairly obvious that France flirted with England (some went so far as to say he fancied England), but most believed he only did it to try to get a rise out of his companion, not for any romantic reason. Few thought France capable of a serious relationship.

Despite America's warnings, France asked the Briton on a date. England said yes. America wanted to know why. Which was why he was currently pacing a hole into the floor of Russia's home.

"I can't believe this is happening," America muttered once again.

"So you have said," Russia dryly replied.

"What should we do?"

"I suppose we have a few options, da? We could try to split them up, though I doubt it would work, stay out of it, which I do not think you will condone," Russia paused, "or we could ensure England, ah, understands what will happen if he breaks dear France's heart."

America groaned, "I couldn't even try to break them up! France would be devastated, and I can't stay out of it 'cause I don't trust England," America agreed.

"We will warn him off then, da?"

A devious sparkle came to America's eyes, "Yeah." He ran to Russia's desk and snatched a piece of paper and a pen, "What to do," he murmured. "No maiming- France'd be upset- nothing too subtle either. I don't wanna chance him missing the point..." America trailed off.

Russia shook his head good naturedly, "We could simply speak to him." He hid his smile.

America plopped down in the nearest chair and contemplated it. He jumped up excitedly after just a moment, "Okay! But I need you to come with me- you're totally scarier than I am."

Russia nodded. America continued, "We should leave ASAP- I'm too wired to wait."

"All right."

* * *

England looked suspiciously up at the afternoon sky. No rain. Not even a cloud was in the sky, which was strange. It was supposed to rain today. A sunny day all day long was definitely a bad omen during the rainy season. He could only hope he was wrong, but he had a gut feeling that something was going to happen and he wanted to be prepared. Better safe than sorry.

"Maybe I should make a hex bag," he murmured. Then he sneezed. He glanced around suspiciously before continuing on his way.

Meanwhile, America and Russia were nearing England. The country itself, not the personification, who, they discovered after a few phone calls, was in London.

America paced the length of the private plane. Russia was leaned ball in his seat, eyes closed. He listened to the steady thumps of America's boots.

"Pacing will not help our situation, nor will it cause the plane to go any faster," he laughed.

"I know," America frowned, "but I can't just sit and do nothing."

America reached Russia's seat at the front of the plane once again. His face lit up at a sudden idea, "Why don't we play a game then?"

Russia cracked open one eye, "All right."

America grinned, "Ever play strip poker?"

"Cheater," America grumbled.

"I can not help that I have a better poker face." Russia smothered a smile, "Comrade, I am fairly certain that 'heroes' are not sore losers."

Russia barely managed to hold in his laughter as America flew into a tirade about heroes and just how heroic he was. Which was a lot apparently. Russia listened contentedly. This is what it is like to have a friend, he supposed. He knew America was not really bitter over the game. If someone had asked, Russia would tell them they both enjoyed the banter and bickering, after all, it was all in good fun and both knew where to draw the line.

The walked out of the terminal, "Spain said England'd be with his Boss-man all day," America glanced at a clock on the wall. "He should be heading to his London home right about now- if he's not there already."

They pushed open the doors and walked out in the cool evening air. Rather than hail a cab, America led Russia through alleys and back streets. They went on such a twisting path that Russia soon could no longer tell where they had come from. Finally, America stepped back out on the main road. He pointed to an old, stately house across the street. It was a beautiful home. It was made of a rich red brick with white shutters. It had a heavy wooden door with a simple brass knocker on it, and, though you could not see it from the outside, there was a peephole cleverly hidden in the knocker. America only knew of it because of the immense amount of time he had spent in the house, both past and present.

They walked across the street and America knocked on the door. Sometimes it paid to be polite, and they might as well start off that way.

England pulled the door open with a slight sigh. He was tired and just wanted to go to sleep. He blinked in surprise when he saw America and Russia standing on his doorstep. He cringed inwardly, whether it was at them or himself he didn't know. Sense had been literally knocked into his head. He regretted a lot of things, though he was too proud to admit most of them. At least where people could hear.

"Hello," England opted for a friendly smile.

"May we come in?" America asked. Well, "asked" wasn't exactly right because all three knew it wasn't a question.

England nodded and stepped aside. "All right. Come in, please take your shoes off at the door."

Both did so without complaint, which nearly surprised England. He led them into the kitchen, causing America's jaw to nearly drop.

"Oh, wipe that look off your face. I know this isn't a social call and I have a feeling I'll need some tea."

"Just a bit surprised you aren't being as formal as usual," America said. "Or hostile."

England sighed as he prepared his tea cup. Two scoops of sugar and a dash of honey. "What's the point?" He turned to face them, "What is it you two need?"

Russia snorted. A glance at America prompted England's former colony to speak, "I want to talk about France."

England slowly blinked, "The frog? What about him? Is he hurt?"

"I want to know your intentions toward him, or, like the hero I am, I will protect him from you," America declared.

"Blimey, I was not expecting this yet," England looked America straight in the eyes, "though I suppose I should have." He paused for a second, "I-I only just found out his true feelings. Honestly? I don't know how I feel, but I would like to give us a try. After all, who else would stick with me for so long? I don't plan to hurt him in any way, but as ask of us know, it could happen whether I intend to our not."

"All I want is a promise you'll try not to, and know that of you do we'll be after you in a heartbeat," America threatened.

"Yes. I promise I will try to do him no harm," he grinned half heartedly, "and if I do you two will make me realize what I've done."

America smiled and clapped England on the shoulder, "Good. Russia, you got anything to add?"

An innocent smile crossed Russia's face. He stepped forward and leaned in close to England so that he could whisper in his ear, just loud enough that he could hear it but low enough that America could not. "America is terribly forgiving, but you will find that I am, ah, protective of those I care about. I do not- and will not- believe a word you say until you give me proof otherwise. I find out you hurt him- or any of them- and I will make it my personal mission to destroy you." Russia leaned back with the pleasant smile still frozen on his face, though to England it seemed a bit sadistic.

England paled. He managed to nod, but could find no words to say. The duo politely took their leave of the terrified man. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when he heard the door close. Troublesome blighters. He had known something bad was going to happen today.

* * *

"Those who are heartless once cared too much. " - Hyouka

* * *

 **A/N: So, uh, surprise! I'm not dead. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO FAVORITED/FOLLOWED/REVIEWED/READ THIS. Okay, so I need y'all opinion. You y'all want this to be longish or shortish? 'Cause right now I can do either. If I do shortish I'll probably wrap it up within the next chapter or 2, but if I make it long I can't say exactly how many yet 'cause I haven't plotted it out yet XD. Just leave it in a review or PM me :). This story took a life of its own *sweatdrops* at first this was only going to be a one shot.**

 **Oh, and just to clear things up, America has NOT forgiven England yet, he's just accepted him for now. I left a couple cookies in this one. Let's see who can find them *cackled with glee***


	4. I'm Fallin' Apart

The sound of a knock carried throughout America's home. America had flour smeared on his clothes and in his hair. He put down the large bowl full of bread dough. Perfect timing- he had just finished it. He rushed out of the kitchen to answer the door. He scowled playfully at the taller man once he had opened the door.

"I told you, you don't need to knock. Just let yourself in," America said in lieu of a greeting. He wiped his hands on his just as messy pants. I should have worn my apron, he thought. Oh well, too late now.

Russia quirked an eyebrow, "It is polite."

"But I said you could."

"I do not wish to be rude."

"If I say you can then it ain't rude," he exasperatedly argued. "C'mon in. I've got stuff in the oven I don't wanna burn."

Russia slipped off his boots at the door and hung up his trademark coat before following America into the kitchen. America was quick to get back to work while Russia curiously watched the other man move expertly.

America blushed at the attention but hid it with a huge smile as he pulled the pan out of the oven, "Tah-dah!"

"Tiny pies?"

"Pot pies."

Russia nodded appreciatively. They smelled heavenly.

"So what've you been up to?" America asked as he took a glass out of a cabinet. He raised an eyebrow and nodded at the cabinet.

"No, thank you," Russia answered the silent question. "And I have not been doing much of note."

"Neither have I. I'm just glad the meetings have been going smoother."

Russia chuckled, "I believe they are afraid of another incident."

"And there won't need to be another so long as they behave themselves," America shrugged. "Though I don't expect it to last much longer."

"You are probably right, but hopefully they have learned a lesson from it."

America scoffed, "They won't change so quickly." He walked over to his refrigerator and opened it. He pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea and filled his glass before putting it back. He took a gulp before turning back to Russia.

"Let's go sit in the family room while the pies are cooling," America suggested. Russia followed the blond nation into the other room. They both sat down on the couch.

"So spill," America stated. "What're you wanting to talk to me about?"

Russia frowned, "Can a friend not visit a friend?"

"You never come without calling me beforehand. That has to mean you have something that screwed with you enough that you didn't. Well," America started to correct himself, "there's other stuff too that helped me figure it out but I don't suppose it's important."

Russia hesitantly spoke in a small voice, "Why are you my friend?"

America scrunched up his face, "What d'you mean?"

"You hated me, da?"

"Naw," Russia's head snapped up in surprise as America spoke, "I thought you were scary but I didn't hate you." He looked hard at Russia, "What's this about?"

"Someone said you were only sticking around out of pity. That I wasn't worth the effort so they would expect you to drop the act any day now," he sadly forced a laugh. "After all, who would want to even be seen with a monster like me?"

America forced himself to take deep breath, and without even realizing it, he clenched his fists. "Don't speak like that. Don't you _dare_ talk like that! I don't know who told you that but they're full of horse shit," he spat.

Russia was speechless. America continued, "You are an amazing person- one of the best I've ever met. Sure, you're a bit rough around the edges but so is everyone else."

"How can it be wrong when so many tell me it is true?" Russia quietly asked, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Would I lie to you?" America asked. Russia didn't respond. "Do you really think that?" He asked, hurt apparent in his voice.

"No," Russia said softly.

America breathed a sigh of relief. One word was enough for the knot in his stomach begin to ease. He pulled Russia into a hug, "Don't worry, it'll be okay. I'm a hero, aren't I?"

Russia just nodded. They stayed like that. Russia enjoying the comforting warmth, while America tried to quell the butterflies in his stomach.

* * *

Canada gulped and shrank into himself. His eyes flicked around the room once again, only this time he was finally able to comprehend and assess the situation.

Albino? Check.

Papa? Check.

Spain? Check.

He really should have expected this. It shouldn't surprise him to find Papa's best friends in his own home. Just like how his stomach shouldn't start doing somersaults at the sight of a certain white haired man. Luckily, they hadn't noticed Canada standing in the corner of the kitchen.

Though it was only a matter of time. He sighed.

"Ah, Canada," France smoothly interrupted Prussia's plan making, "here you go." France handed Canada a plate stacked high with pancakes.

"Thank you," Canada murmured.

Of course, now the other two took notice of him, but Canada had no idea what they said- if they said anything at all- because he was too busy pulling the syrup out of a cabinet and smothering his pancakes with it.

A hand waved in front of his face, "Hellooo?"

Canada blinked. He turned his tired head to face the newest intruder of his bubble.

"So, you wanna come with us?" Prussia asked expectantly.

France laughed, "You won't get much out of him until he wakes up."

Canada decided to tune them out in favor of his pancakes now that they weren't talking to him anymore. He ate his pancakes slowly. Ah, the wonders of a pancake fix. Pancakes really were heaven sent. He only wished they could ward away nightmares. They had been keeping him up lately, which was why it took him until late morning to roll out of bed. I should visit America, he thought, that usually helps.

Hmm, it sounded like Prussia and Spain were trying to convince France to go out with them for a while. Prepare him for his date? That was a good idea- it wouldn't do for France to stay home just for his sake. Canada found himself nodding to their words.

France noticed, "Mon cher, I'll go if you will."

Canada scowls as Prussia and Spain now crowded him with pleas to come along. Canada sighed but nodded.

"I-I need to get dressed and then we can go."

They nodded happily and the three of them started off on another topic as Canada walked to his room. He roused Kumatsuma, who was still sleeping, as he walked into his closet. Kumatiki grumbled but got up, while Canada pulled on a pair of jeans and a red and white sweatshirt.

He picked up Kumamuchi and made his way back to the others. How bad could this be?

* * *

Never tempt fate. Just don't do it. Canada threw his miserable self on his bed. Sure, France had fun, but he had had to put up with Prussia flirting with every pretty face he saw. He groaned. Life must hate him to make him like the one person who would never give him the time of day.

"America should be here by now," he muttered. He stood up to find France and America.

It wasn't hard. They were debating outfits in Papa's bedroom. Well, Papa was insisting nothing was good enough, while America bluntly told him that England would not care what he wore.

Canada slipped in and perched himself on Papa's bed, smiling at America. France walked out of his closet in a new outfit.

"What about this?" France walked over to his floor length mirror to examine himself.

"Looks really nice, Papa," Canada spoke.

France picked at his white shirt, "Not too simple?"

"He'll love it," America said. Canada hummed in agreement.

He stood up to grab a pair of shoes from the stack that had accumulated, "And these would go with it."

France beamed and kissed Canada's forehead, "Yes!" He slipped on the black leather shoes. He pulled both boys into a hug with tears in his eyes, "You two are the best anyone could ask for."

"We try," America laughed.

"Hey, don't cry now," Canada said frantically. "Your eyes will get red."

"I'm all right," France sniffed. "I do need to get going though- I can't be late!" France nearly ran out the door.

America and Canada laughed. France still had plenty of time- even including the fact that he was planning on picking up flowers on the way. They hoped this would work out. France had gone through enough heartache. Of course, America and Russia did have a certain promise to keep if that did happen.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Canada looked at America with a slight sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah," America spoke softly. "I think England's serious," he cracked a smile, "besides, France'll woo him without a doubt. Both of us know how long he's been waiting for it."

Canada smiled contentedly, "You're right."

America jokingly tossed his head, "Of course, I am. I'm the hero."

Canada laughed at America's antics. A mischievous grin took over his face, "So you and Russia, huh?"

America's face was pink, "Oh, don't even start. I've seen you making eyes at Prussia."

Canada blushed but sighed dejectedly, "I don't even have a chance with him. He's him an-and I'm just me. People don't even _see_ me most of the time." He plopped down on France's bed.

America joined him, "Me too. I'm just a friend, a close friend, but only a friend."

"Our love lives are terrible."

"Even Germany has a better love life," America groaned.

Canada laughed, "Italy and Germany are good for each other."

"Ain't that the truth. Germany hasn't had as big of a stick up his butt."

Canada's eyes flickered back and forth to the floor, "A-am I really that obvious?"

America's face softened, "No, just to me."

Canada sighed in relief, "That's good. I-I'm afraid everyone would laugh."

America knew his brother well enough to know what he really meant. "Everyone" meant Prussia. He stayed quiet and let Canada continue, "He wouldn't like me anyway, I'm not 'awesome' enough for him. I-" he broke off in tears.

America wrapped his arm around Canada, "Not awesome? You're my bro. That makes you awesome just by association! And that's not even including your own awesomeness. As if any brother of a hero like me could be lame," he playfully scoffed. "And if he can't see that then he's not good enough for my little bro."

Canada sniffed, "I'm older than you are."

"Details," America dismissed.

They both started laughing so hard they were holding their sides. They laughed until tears came to their eyes, yet they were able to catch their breath after a short while.

"Thank you."

"No problem, dude," America grinned.

"But what about you?" Canada asked.

"What about me?"

"You and Russia? I can't say I was expecting it but you two do fit each other."

"How could I tell him?" America finally answered. "He probably wouldn't even realize what I was saying. I don't want to lose what we already have." His eyes became downcast, "And I couldn't take advantage of him like that. He might think I wouldn't be his friend anymore if he said no, and just say yes so he won't lose his friends. Or he could believe he's in love with me simply because I was one of his first friends."

"You know, you are closer to him than I am- even though I was the first of us to accept him. That has to count for something. He really does like you- even if only as a friend."

"That's all I can hope for."

* * *

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light." - Albus Dumbledore

* * *

 **A/N: 'Ello, people. Hope you're happy with the new chap! Sorry if everything seems rushed. So if you couldn't tell I ended up plunging into the slashy area lol. If you no likey then feel free to leave. I haven't fully decided the end pairings so just because certain people are together doesn't mean they'll stay that way. If you want a particular pairing let me know and I might add it in if I like it or if lots of y'all want it.**

 **So I will be doing the long version, and I'd like all y'all to know that no matter how long between updates it gets ('cause I seem to be pretty bad about this) I'm not gonna abandon the story. I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and I'll be revising the beginning at some point to make it seem less one shoty and smoother, not no major changes just making it flow better. Bye :)**


	5. The Phone Number Cliché Strikes

Canada excitedly bounced around his room in France's home. Prussia had called him the night before and had asked him for a favor. They had decided to meet up at a local park. It's not like Canada could have said no even if he wanted to. Canada had a hard time saying no to Prussia.

He nervously ate another pancake. He had risen early that morning and had made quite a few batches. It was really way more than needed, but cooking helped ease the knot in Canada's stomach. If only a little.

In truth, he was ready to leave. He had been for a good three hours in spite of the hour long decision that ended with America picking his outfit so that he would stop stressing over it.

He just didn't know what to do to kill more time. He had about an hour and a half until they had decided to meet. He was seriously thinking about just going ahead. It might make him feel a bit better at least.

He glanced around his room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Nope. He walked to America's room and knocked lightly on the door as he pushed it open.

"Hey," Canada said.

"You leaving now?" America asked brightly.

"Yeah, figured I'd give you a heads up."

"M'kay, I'm getting ready to leave too."

"See you later, then," Canada said.

"See ya."

Canada left happily albeit a bundle of nerves. It didn't take him very long to get to the park. There were more people there than Canada had expected, but he couldn't honestly say he was surprised. Now to wait.

He watched several families pass by. Kids came and went. At one point there was a dog chase. Canada laughed at that for a while. Slowly but surely, the time passed.

Canada bounced on his heels and leaned forward to peer around the crowds of people. "Where is he?" He quietly hummed.

After one final glance around the park, he leaned back against the tree behind him. He took a deep breath of the warm air and smiled. It was a good day to be outside.

"Birdie, there you are!" He heard a voice shout.

Canada turned his head to see Prussia running toward him. "Birdie?" He questioned as Prussia skidded to a halt.

"Yes," Prussia declared. "You remind me of my awesome Gilbird."

Canada slowly nodded. He knew it would be fruitless to try to argue. "So what did you need me for?"

Prussia grinned, "C'mon, I need help with a gift." He began to lead the way, but Canada was shell shocked.

"M-me?" He stuttered as he ran to catch up.

"The awesome me said so, didn't I?"

Canada blushed, "Y-yeah, it's just most people don't ask me about these kinds of things." Or anything at all, he added silently.

Prussia laughed, "The awesomeness that is me is smarter than them. I've seen gifts you picked out for France and America. You have awesome taste."

If possible, Canada became redder at the compliment. "W-who did y-you have in mind?"

This time it was Prussia's turn to be embarrassed. "Well, it will be my awesome Bruder and Italy's anniversary soon- Bruder works too hard so the awesome me wanted to plan something for him." Canada was almost surprised at how visibly concerned Prussia looked when he spoke of Germany. "But I know I'm unawesomely bad at these types of gifts."

Canada's mouth formed and "o". He could now understand why he needed help. Prussia was well known for his gag gifts- but not for nice ones. But that still left one nagging question in Canada's mind. Why did Prussia come running to him? It wasn't like they were close, no matter how much Canada wished they were. He decided not to pry. He wanted to enjoy the time he spent with Prussia as much as possible. Though they weren't on a date. Definitely not, he thought with a sad smile.

"So w-what were you thinking of?" Canada asked.

Prussia just stared with a blank stare on his face. "Whatever my awesome Birdie thinks is best," Prussia nodded decidedly.

Not daring to over think Prussia's use of "my," Canada slowly nodded, lost in thought. He knew Germany wouldn't want anything extravagant. He also knew Italy would need something fun for them to do. Hmm. He looked to Prussia.

"What country are they going to be in around their anniversary?"

"Italy, I think."

"I got it!" Canada glowed.

"Birdie?"

"I'll get it all arranged. Don't worry," Canada sweetly smiled. "What week is their anniversary?"

"Three weeks from now," Prussia replied.

Canada nodded to himself. "I'll need your opinion on a few things to iron out the details..." he trailed off.

"Okay, Birdie," Prussia pulled out his phone. "What's your number?"

Canada blushed again and started stuttering, but he managed to get the numbers out. Prussia pulled a marker out of his pockets. He grabbed Canada's arm then wrote his own number on the inside of Canada's arm.

"There we go." Prussia grinned. "I owe you big time, Birdie."

"I-it's no problem. Don't worry about it."

"Just say the word and I'm there!" Prussia declared. "Anything you need, anytime."

Canada face was as red as a tomato, "O-okay."

Suddenly, a loud rumble could be heard. "Birdie, was that your stomach?" Prussia asked in disbelief.

"Y-yeah," Canada stared at the ground. He sharply looked up when Prussia took him by the arm and pulled him away.

"Then let's go eat," Prussia grinned.

Canada nodded. He was too embarrassed to do much else. One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Right. He tried to steady his heartbeat. He just knew that Prussia could hear it's pounding thumps.

"Tell everybody I'm on my way, new friends and new places to see," sang from Canada's back pocket.

Canada immediately stopped to pull out his phone. He frowned in concern, "America?"

A wet cough rattled through the phone. "H-hey, please-" a series of coughs cut him off.

"I'll be there ASAP. Don't worry," Canada's frown deepened. "Hang in there."

Canada turned to Prussia, "I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Everything okay?" Prussia asked.

Canada nodded distractedly.

"Call me if you need anything. Anything at all," Prussia spoke.

"T-thank you, really," and because he couldn't think of anything else to say, "I'm sure Papa will let you know if something comes up."

Prussia frowned, but Canada didn't notice. "Why wouldn't you do it?"

"You're offering because of Papa, right?" Canada asked.

Prussia didn't answer. He forced a smile, "Birdie, you should go see him. My awesome self will be alright on my own."

Canada smiled, "Thank you for understanding."

"No problem," Prussia winked half heartedly. He watched as Canada ran off. He punched the wall beside him. "Ow! Crap," he shook his bleeding hand. "I should've known," he sighed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off.

* * *

Canada rushed to their home. "How come I can't ever leave you by yourself?"

Canada hurried opened the door to the house with his key. "America?"

He could hear a groan from another room. He ran to it. What he saw left him on the verge of tears. America was curled up in a bloody ball. "America!"

Canada ran to his side, "Oh no. No." He looked over the wounds, "What did you get into this time?"

America opened his eyes. Well, eye. One was too swollen shut to open. "Canada?"

"Let's get you in bed, okay?"

America grunted, which Canada took as a positive answer. He helped America up the stairs and into his room. He laid America down on his bed. He began to take a survey of America's body. A broken arm, at least four ribs bruised at best, a twisted ankle, along with a multitude of cuts and bruises.

Canada rummaged around America's house for the supplies he needed.

"What happened this time?"

America took a shaky breath, "They were beating up a girl. A _child_. I had to stop them. But they had a few more guys than I thought."

Canada nodded, "She alright?"

"Took her to the hospital. She seemed more scared than anything."

"Good," Canada smiled warmly.

America smiled, "Yeah."

Canada bound America's injuries. They wouldn't need anything more. Perks of accelerated healing.

"I found out that her father is in debt with the wrong kind of people. They were teaching him a lesson through her," America winced. Canada frowned. "And... I'm really sorry that I interrupted you," he finished quietly.

"Shut up," Canada said. "I'd be angry if you didn't tell me."

"But still."

"It's fine. You know that."

"I know that it's my fault your day got cut short though."

"It's too late to worry about it now anyway. Now you need to rest. We'll just say you owe me one," Canada said.

America gave him a small smile, "Yeah. Did you at least get his number?" He joked.

"Yes," Canada admitted.

"High-five, bro!" America exclaimed.

"It's just so I can help him with a gift though."

"Don't try to ruin my proud moment," America grinned.

Canada smiled.

They high-fived.

* * *

"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten." - Lilo (Lilo and Stitch)

* * *

 **A/N: Hello? Please don't be too mad at me. In my defense I've been a bit busy over the past few months and I've also suffered from a bit of writers block. Please tell me what you think.**

 **If some things don't seem terribly clear, don't worry. You'll understand in the future 'cause it will be expanded on. Just wanted to throw that out there! Uh, I have updated chapter 1 since last chapter. As I said you don't have to reread it 'cause there's no changes to the plot. Please r &r. Like seriously, reviewing encourages me so much. And input is greatly appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has read to far! **


	6. A Bit Of Love Goes A Long Way

Prussia burst into Germany's study without so much as a knock. His eyebrows were drawn together as he placed the length of the room. Unsurprisingly, his hair was a mess, though it could be noted that it stuck out a bit more than usual. In fact, Prussia was a bit more untidy than usual in all areas, which was a fact that was immediately noticed by Germany.

"What are you doing?" Germany asked.

"Thinking."

"About?"

Prussia huffed and threw his hands in the air. He turned to glare at Germany, "What does it matter?"

"It matters because I have not seen you this upset in decades," Germany calmly spoke.

Prussia plopped onto the nearest chair, a plush leather armchair, and moaned, "I'm a failure."

Germany merely raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Elaborate."

"Canada thinks it's because of France," Prussia wailed. "I'm such an idiot. West, what am I going to do?" Prussia buried his head in his arms. "What am I supposed to do to make him realize that I'm not being nice because of France? When have I ever done that?"

"Show him otherwise." Germany waited a breath, "Obviously."

"But what if it doesn't work? Or better yet, what if he doesn't feel the same? What if me trying ruins any possible friendship we could have had? I'd rather have him as my awesome friend than not at all," Prussia declared mournfully. He dejectedly slumped further into the chair. It looked as if the chair was in the process of devouring Prussia.

Germany looked Prussia in the eyes, "You will never know until you try."

"You think he'd say yes?" Prussia asked hopefully.

Germany solemnly said, "I do not know-"

Prussia popped up. "You're supposed to be encouraging," he accused.

"But that does not mean you should not try," Germany continued as if Prussia had not spoken at all.

Prussia was silent for a moment. His face broke into a smile, "You're right! The awesome me will woo Canada if it's the last thing I do."

Germany nodded. He started to resume his paperwork as Prussia rushed out the doors. He didn't let himself smile until he was sure Prussia was out of sight. Maybe his Bruder would finally get his own happily ever after. If Prussia managed to keep his head detached from his behind.

Nevertheless, Germany chuckled at Prussia's swift change of mood. Germany had known exactly what Prussia was doing the moment he walked in the door, if not why. Prussia knew that Germany, who tended to be much calmer, would see the situation for what it was. Even if he wanted something different. Prussia had wanted Germany to tell him if it was feasible. It was Prussia's way of getting encouragement, Germany thought.

* * *

Prussia immediately began to form a plan. He gathered France and Spain. After all, who planned better than the Bad Touch Trio?

Prussia slumped in his seat. He looked at the other two. They all sat in his living room. He told them everything about what had happened with Canada. Well, all the recent developments anyway, they had known about Prussia's feelings for Canada before he himself even realised it.

France laughed, "Canada can be as dense as America when it comes to matters of the heart."

Spain was thoughtful, "Then we'll need to make it fairly obvious so he can't mistake it."

Prussia nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! Operation Woo The Birdie is underway."

* * *

Canada was nearly in tears. He tried to keep his face blank as he started at America. Finally he could hold it in no longer. He could hardly catch his breath as his entire body shook with laughter. He laughed and laughed. Every time he looked back at America, it would start off a new round of laughter.

"Hey! Show a little sympathy," America moaned. "It isn't that funny."

"I can't believe you," Canada wheezed, "You told him the reason your face was so red was because you'd just had a tomato eating contest with Spain and you ate too many tomatoes. And it just took that long to kick in? Who would actually believe that? Besides, it's not like it's the first time you two have hugged."

"I know. I was just so surprised. I wasn't expecting it at all. But I didn't want him to think I was embarrassed by him. Russia's had enough of that lately. 'Sides, he would have thought I had a fever otherwise, and that would have just made everything worse. He's too nice for his own good!"

Canada could only imagine what would have happened if America had let Russia believe America was uncomfortable because of him. Thanks to some lying, ignorant bullies, Russia's self confidence had plummeted. Russia still refused to say who was doing it, much to America's dismay. Canada and France had decided to keep an eye out to see if they could catch anyone in the act of tormenting their dear family member, but so far they had no luck. Heaven help the poor bastards when they found out.

All they could do in the meantime was try to prove that they genuinely cared about Russia. Without being able to stop whoever was doing it, although that was only a matter of time, there was little they could do. All three of them were broken-hearted by the fact that Russia was so willing to believe such negative things. Even England was upset about it, though he was not as close to Russia. England came down with a vengeance, working his magic this way and that. Canada wasn't sure what exactly England was doing, yet knew his life was safer if he gave the wizard (or was it warlock?) space. Canada was grateful for England's work though, because now Russia could not be seen without some knick nack or another that England had spelled.

If that didn't claim him to the family Canada didn't know what would. After all, Canada and America had several of them themselves, though most were old. France kept his own with pride. The rose that wouldn't wilt was a particular favorite. Of course, Russia's were mostly spelled for protection and such, though there was only so much magic could do. Especially if they weren't in the immediate vicinity.

America sighed, "Do you think he's going to be all right?"

Canada leaned against the wall behind him, "I don't know. I hope so."

"Me too," America said quietly. "I just wish there was something I could do! I'm supposed to be a hero but I'm not doing anything."

"Sometimes all you can do is just be there for someone, I think," Canada spoke. "I know it's not what you're picturing and it's gonna make you feel useless, but maybe him knowing he can count on us does more than fighting over him. He _can_ take care of himself, you know," Canada paused. "Even if I don't want to admit it either," he softly confessed.

"You're right, but that doesn't mean he has to. I just want him to realize. I want him to know he can come to us for anything. That he can come to me and I'd be there. And not just because of my feelings for him either, you know. Just- just because he's family now. I'd do anything for him if he asked," America's voice cracked.

Canada stepped forward and pulled America into a hug. America hugged tightly back and if Canada noticed how his shirt now had a wet patch, he didn't say anything.

"C'mon," Canada led America to the kitchen. Canada knelt beside a cabinet and pulled out a huge tub of cracked and chipped tableware. "Let's do this. I was saving 'em for a time like this," he smiled. Then he carefully picked a glass cup up out of the tub and chucked it across the room, where it shattered with a delightfully against the wall.

America glowered at the tub. He grabbed a plate and angrily threw it on the ground.

This continued on for several minutes until the two looked around Canada's kitchen and laughed at the mess that was spread everywhere. They had barely made a dent in Canada's hoard but it didn't matter. Canada was pretty sure there were shards in the hallway as well. They set about to cleaning it up, both armed with brooms. They stepped carefully, though they still ended up with a few cuts.

"Thank you," America spoke when they finished.

"It's what you needed."

"Yeah. I... I feel a lot better now," America half smiled.

"You need to talk to him."

"I know."

"I'm serious," Canada turned to face America fully.

"I know." America sighed, "I'm working my way up to it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

A moment of comfortable silence passed between them. "It'll be all right," Canada spoke.

"How do you know?" America asked in a small voice.

"'Cause someone's always telling me everything will work out in the end. That the hero ensures it. Well, sometimes the hero needs a bit of help, and that's okay too. Because you know what?"

"What?"

"Heroes don't work alone. So you don't need to keep it all to yourself, eh?"

A smile crept onto America's face, "Yeah. And I'm the best hero ever so everything really will be okay. I won't let anything happen otherwise." He hugged Canada fiercely, "Thank you."

"What else are brothers for?"

They stayed like that for a while. Each needed the extra support it brought. They didn't need any more words when they finally parted. The two understood each other well enough to know what the other left unspoken.

* * *

"A heart's a heavy burden." - Howl's Moving Castle

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, again! It's been awhile... but I hope y'all like the story so far. Criticism is welcomed. I'm starting to get a good feel for where I'm taking this so hopefully I'll get chapters out a bit faster than I have been... I had a bit of writers block. I know where I want to end up but it was deciding how to get there ^^'.**

 **Just in case any of y'all are confused, the reason they're not pulling something like what happened in the first and second chapters is simple. Who would want something like that spread around? It's bad enough for Russia as it is, if they blindly confronted everyone it wouldn't be very fun to be in Russia's shoes. This will be said in some later chapter actually in the story. I wanted to clear it up just in case though.**

 **Again thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read so far, and to those who continue to read!**


	7. In Which A Certain Talk Takes Place

America rushed out of Canada's house. He ran to the nearest airport and quickly booked the soonest flight to Russia. The actual physical country, not the personification, although America considered that a technicality considered that he was going there to talk to Russia. Ah, the things one would think of to keep from bawling. America was almost surprised at how close to full out sobbing he was. He was usually so much more put together than this. But this _hurt_. It hurt so much.

How is it that when someone you care about is in pain it feels like you're the one who's hurt? But America was determined to fix this. He had to.

He was in a daze through the entire flight. He was pretty sure they had a layover at some point but he couldn't be sure. He tried to focus on what to say. But what should he say? What could he say? How could words fully convey how he- how all of them- felt about Russia. America felt so much more than just romantic love for Russia. Russia was a part of his family. Sure, he loved Russia, but that stemmed from his overwhelming love for Russia as his best friend. As someone who saw America fully. As someone who wasn't disgusted or afraid by what he saw. And to America it was the world.

America finally managed to focus when he landed. He hurriedly took a cab to Russia's house. When he arrived, he started at the familiar building. Then he shook himself and walked up to the door. He took a deep breath before knocking.

America could hear footsteps. Russia opened the door. He started in shock at America. What America didn't know was that Russia was more surprised at America's forgetfulness than his appearance. America had come without even putting on a coat!

"Hey," America said.

"Hello, America," Russia spoke in a bewildered tone.

"Can I come in?" America half smiled.

"Yes, of course," Russia quickly stepped aside to give America room to walk inside. The nice toasty warm inside. Not that America was fully aware of how cold his skin felt to the touch, or that his skin had the slightest blue hue to it.

"Sorry to come over so late. I-I just really need to talk to you."

Russia frowned, "It is no issue. You know you are always welcome here." He looked at the smaller nation, "Come."

Russia led America to his living room couch. He pulled out a heavy blanket and wrapped it around America.

"You should have at least worn proper clothing. You might have froze to death!" Russia scolded.

America looked down at himself, indeed, he was wearing only jeans and a t-shirt. Hardly an appropriate clothing choice for Russia's bitter weather. It normally would have been a wonder that he wasn't aware of the chill, given the drastic climate difference yet he had had too much on his mind to care. "Sorry, I came in a rush. Canada finally talked some sense into me."

America looked at his companion. He noticed Russia's confusion, "Like I said, I need to talk to you. I'd prefer it if you'd let me talk all the way through before you get angry or anything, alright?"

Russia nodded, "Go ahead then."

America took a breath, "So I want you to know that this is me talking. Not anyone else. Oh, where to start? Just, Russia, you know we care about you right? 'Cause we do. We really, really do. And I swear that I'm not making this up. No matter what other people say, I will care about you. Especially because it's someone else _and not me_ that's saying that stuff. You'd trust what I say over them, right?" America looked at Russia's downcast form, "Please tell me that you believe me."

"I know I should trust you. I want to believe every word that you say, but am I just to dismiss what others say? Even when I know what they say to be true?" Russia's voice was barely audible.

"How can they be saying the truth when I know they're lying?" America's voice broke. He wiped his eyes furiously. "France and Canada agree with me even. I know they've tried to talk to you about this."

"But I know I'm a monster. Everyone has always said so. That I was too big, too scary. That I was bloodthirsty," Russia refused to look up.

A resounding smack sounded through the air. "Don't you dare talk about yourself like that. I can't stand to hear it! Can't you hear me? I'm saying that they're wrong. Do you think I'm a liar?" America demanded.

Russia didn't flinch. He could have easily avoided the strike, and both of them knew it. He shook his head. "No."

"Then why don't you believe me? They. Are. Wrong."

Russia finally turned his head up. He gazed at America, no that wasn't right. He was looking right through America. "How can you be so sure?" Russia whispered.

"Because I know you. And the you I know could never be those things. The you I know is sweet and gentle and protective. The Russia I know is the best person I could ever hope to know. Trust me."

"I do."

America leaned over and threw his arms around Russia, "I'm glad."

Russia slowly sat down on the couch, not letting go of America. "Thank you."

"There's nothing for you to thank me for," America stubbornly stated. "I only knocked some sense into you."

"Yes," Russia weakly smiled, "but I am thankful anyway." Russia suddenly leaned away, "America, if I asked you a question would you promise to answer honestly?"

"As well as I can," America replied.

"Do you, that is, am I repulsive?"

"Huh?" America stared at Russia. "What do you mean?"

Russia blushed. He became flustered, "Often, if I touch you, you are embarrassed. You tend to go to great lengths to keep it from happening."

America flushed, "No, I swear that's not it at all," America could tell that Russia didn't quite believe him so he continued, "it's the opposite actually." America could feel Russia's quizzical eyes on him, "The truth is that I find you attractive."

Russia turned red. He stuttered protests. There was no way that America could really like him. It must be a joke, not a funny one but he couldn't be serious.

"It's true, you know," America weakly grinned. "I suppose I should get going." America stood, "Thank you for the blanket." He made his way to the door.

"Wait," Russia called. He grabbed America's arm. "Please." Russia searched America's eyes, "I don't want you to go."

"Why?" America was shocked. Surely Russia should be wanting anything but that right now. Everything they had talked about was a lot to take in for anyone.

Russia averted his gaze, "Because you did not give me time to say anything. I," Russia breathed deeply, "I find you attractive too."

America froze. His mind shorted out.

"America?" Russia asked nervously.

America obtained a serious look in his face. "Russia, look at me please." He only continued when Russia did so, "Do you like me?"

"I believe so."

"Why?"

Russia became even more flustered. He opened and closed his mouth as he thought of what to say, "I like you because it's you. You're you. I do not know how to explain it."

"I just don't want to do something you'll regret. If you would rather stay friends then that's what I want. Nothing you say right now will change the fact that you are a part of our family. Like it or not."

"America, if you would agree, I would very much enjoy being more than friends."

America teared up. He wiped his eyes furiously, yet he was thankful it was for a different reason than it had been just a few moments ago. Russia rushed to him, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," America grinned, "I'm just really happy." He winced, "And the feeling in my body is coming back."

Russia cringed sympathetically, "Better to be able to feel the pain than for it to be numb."

"I know that in my head but it's not fun in practice," America laughed and Russia joined in.

"We need to warm you up," Russia pulled America back into the living room. Russia sat America into the couch and turned to the hearth. He piled a few fresh logs into it. "A nice fire always helps."

America wrapped the blanket around himself once again, "You're right." He had a silly grin covering his face.

Once he got the fire going, Russia stepped back. He sat on the couch with America. They sat and talked. And talked. At some point Russia took America's hands into his, saying it would warm them better. America agreed, saying that now he could and would take full advantage of Russia's natural warmth. They talked until America finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Russia fell asleep not long after, his head resting on America's.

* * *

"Never regret anything that made you smile." - Mark Twain

* * *

 **A/N: Haha! Got this one out much faster! I already knew what was gonna happen in this chapter so it was pretty easy to write.**

 **I'm pretty ecstatic over the response this story has gotten. Thank you, everyone!**


	8. In Which Fluff Is Written

America woke up first. He blearily looked around trying to figure out where he was. He became aware a weight pressing against his side, and turned to see Russia sleeping with him on the couch. America reddened but he didn't try to move away as the events of the night before came back to him with a rush. Had he really managed to blurt everything out to Russia? He glanced up at the clock on the wall. Five-thirty. Less than four hours of sleep, he thought. With a small regretful sigh, he carefully got up. He crept to the kitchen and searched the cabinets. He sighed despairingly at the apparent lack of food in them.

America turned and walked straight back to where Russia was still sleeping. America crouched down and stared at Russia determinedly. America slowly reached a hand out to poke the sleeping nation, but suddenly America's stomach growled loudly. Russia peeked open his eyes and saw America grinning sheepishly with his hand still in the air. America scratched the back of his head and laughed.

"I'm hungry."

"So I gathered," replied Russia. "Come on, then," said Russia as he swung himself off the couch and headed to the kitchen. America followed happily, though he did note how half of Russia's hair was defying gravity while the other half was slicked down against his head. America suppressed a laugh. It felt like such a normal thing for him to wake up with Russia and see him in such a state, though the tips of America's ear were tinged with red at the thoughts that followed that. They honestly hadn't done anything the night before but talk and cuddle, yet that didn't change the fact that they had still woken in the same space. It was the fact that they could have done something- along with the fact that if France had seen them he more than likely would have jumped to conclusions despite the fact that both of the nations had remained fully clothed- that was the reason of his slight embarrassment. He shook himself as he walked through the doorway that led into the kitchen.

America plopped down on one of Russia's kitchen chairs after determining that Russia neither needed nor wanted America's help cooking. The early morning light streamed in through a window. America concentrated deeply with his head laid upon his arms. He openly studied Russia, though Russia ignored him entirely. Russia made breakfast for the two of them, though it didn't feel much like breakfast since they hadn't slept for very long with all the excitement that had happened the day before.

"Aha!" America nearly shouted. "Hufflepuff. You're a Hufflepuff," he nodded smugly, obviously proud of himself. "Or maybe Slytherin..." he trailed off.

Russia looked at him blankly, "What is a Hufflepuff?"

America froze. Horror was plain on his face, "You don't know what a Hufflepuff is? How have you never read _Harry Potter_?" Russia shrugged. "That's it," America said. "We're watching all of them. And you need to read them."

"I have no choice?"

"No. We're at least having a movie marathon. Then you can decide for yourself which house you belong to."

"All right," Russia consented as he set a plate of chocolate strawberry waffles on the table. America's eyes shone. Russia sat down and they both merrily ate their breakfast, content with savoring the peaceful time they were sharing- especially because the awkwardness caused from their lack of communication was now gone.

* * *

Meanwhile, in other parts of the world, breakfast was not going so smoothly.

"Shiiii-" England was cut off by the loud beeping of the fire alarm.

France burst into the kitchen with a fire extinguisher and battled the flames. Once finished, he hacked for a minute because of the smoke while simultaneously glaring at England.

"I thought we agreed no cooking that involves _heat,_ " stressed France.

England looked only slightly remorseful, "I suppose, but you were sleeping and I wanted breakfast. I am not so helpless that I can't feed myself."

France gave England a look that easily conveyed, "You could have fooled me and anyone who has any sense of taste- or smell."

"Don't look at me like that," said England. "It could have been worse."

France sighed because England really wasn't wrong- this was a better attempt, however lousy it was. He pointed to a random chair, "Sit." He pushed England into it, before turning around to clean up the mess England had made- how exactly does one get a _green_ egg stuck to the ceiling? After that was accomplished, he started breakfast. England watched as France pulled out ingredients like flour, baking powder, and vanilla. It wasn't long before France was placing the finished chocolate strawberry waffles on the table, oblivious to the fact that one of his sons was eating the same thing.

England poked it. "So that's how you do it," he mused thoughtfully.

"Were you trying to make waffles?" asked France incredulously. If France didn't know any better he would say that England was pouting, "You weren't using the waffle iron."

England scoffed, "Waffle iron? Why can't you make waffles on the stove?"

France chuckled, "That's called pancakes, dear. At least you didn't burn the kitchen down this time."

England frowned, "That was one time. Maybe two." He squirmed under France's unimpressed gaze, "Or seven."

"I wonder how Prussia and Canada are getting along," said France. "I bet they'll get together before Romano admits he loves Spain."

"Bet you Spain will wait for Romano to make the first move," England shot back.

France looked at him thoughtfully and nodded, "Most likely, mon cher. You know Spain would hate to scare him off."

"As if Romano could be scared off. That boy is head over heels for Spain whether Romano realizes it or not."

* * *

Canada frowned. "What is this?" He asked. Canada stood on his porch looking blankly at Prussia. He just stared at Prussia, who was holding a huge bouquet of flowers, while shaking his head ever so slightly in amazement.

"Flowers," Prussia said proudly. "I thought you'd like them." He was smiling smugly, obviously pleased with himself.

"What am I supposed to do with them?"

"Put them in a vase or something, I guess? Look at them? I just thought they looked nice and the reminded me of you," Prussia rambled.

"Well, thank you," Canada gingerly took the bouquet before turning to head inside to find a container to put them in. He looked over his shoulder as he turned and said, "Come on in then, since you're here."

Prussia eagerly pounced upon the invitation. He was inside before Canada had a chance to finish talking.

"So," said Canada after he found an appropriate vase for the flowers. He began to add water and a packet of plant food to the vase as he spoke, "Did you have any other reason for dropping by?" Canada's face heated and, despite his best efforts, he could not keep his gaze on any single object. "Not that I mind you being here, of course."

Prussia swallowed, "Yes, actually, I was wondering if you would mind going to go get something to eat."

Canada visibly brightened. His smile was infectious as he spoke, "Of course! We're friends aren't we? Though you didn't need to bring a bouquet to try to convince me. A call is enough."

Prussia frowned, his forehead knotted. "No."

"No?"

"I don't want us to go as friends, no matter how entirely awesome that would be. I want us to go out together, like, as a date."

Canada stopped breathing. He pinched himself, not once, but twice to make sure he wasn't still sleeping. He could hardly believe that this was, in fact, not a dream. His disbelief showed clearly on his face as he spoke, "What?"

Prussia wilted slightly. "I asked if you would go on a date with me," he tried again. France had insisted that Prussia would need to be as direct as possible. Prussia wasn't sure if France's point was being proven or if France's conviction that Canada returned Prussia's feelings was wrong.

It was in that moment that Kumajiro decided to totter into the room. He glanced around the room before his eyes settled on Canada. He scoffed, "The sputtering means yes. The boy has had the hots for you for a long while now."

Canada's eyes widened. He ran to Kumajiro and clamped his hand around the bear's mouth. He turned back to Prussia, letting a smile stretch across his mouth, "Th-that sounds wonderful."

* * *

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." - Winnie the Pooh

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry about the long wait! Life got a bit busy. I hope that this chapter was not disappointing. I was aiming to give a bit of an update on the three couples, but I don't know if it would have been better to break it up into different chapters instead. If I had I would have added a bit more to each one. Thoughts? I honestly don't know how much more I have to add to this. I had a plan when I started this, but the story has gotten away from me a bit, which is part of the reason why it has been so hard to write. I know for sure that I will get through the date, and perhaps some drama for PruCan? They are the ones that I still have some solid ideas for. I think don't think that I currently have anything unresolved with RusAme or FrUK, but I will reread everything to double-check. If you feel like there's something you'd wish I'd add on to feel free to tell me. :)**


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